


per vas nefandum

by 655321



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/655321/pseuds/655321
Summary: In which Harry maybe was in love with Eggsy’s dad and Eggsy maybe does sex magick.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My writing playlist:  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3xA5sitGyAHPB1LQJMAUOZUiFnPcLGgE

per vas nefandum

"by the forbidden vessel"

~~

There can be no disgrace

For the true expression of Love

That without it, a man can be coarsened and degraded

In mind, body and soul

-Wax Tailor, “Sometimes”

~~

"A wandering singer caught the light o' the stars

On his lips, and the sun-dawn of the world in his heart."

-Victor Benjamin Neuburg, "A Nocturne"

  
  


There's a moment, when it's over. Finally Eggsy's left in a room full of death but he's saved the world. He's half-hard just from being alive, and the last place he wants to be is in a world without Harry Hart.

Eggsy's lying in sweat-stained sheets, everything drained from his exhausted body. Adrenaline, lust, come, saliva, words. The whole world replaced by aches and swelling bruises. He feels sated and hollow and he's growing miffed that, unlike his bedfellow, his body refused to be claimed by the haven of post-coital unconsciousness.

In a haze he dragged himself back to the plane. Merlin greeted him with a smirk and a ready quip, but each fell flat when he saw Eggsy's face. Blank and composed, utterly, and the younger agent growled, "let's get the fuck out of here."

"Couldn't agree more!" Merlin took eagerly to the helm.

Moments later, he popped back into the cabin. "Eggsy. You should know. Harry's alive."

Eggsy's eyes were fierce, his jaw still. Then, darkly, "are you taking the fucking piss?"

"He's in a secure U.S. medical facility, until he's well enough to travel." 

Merlin winked, and returned to the cockpit.

 

~~~

One night. One night he'd spent, wearing only his shorts, snug in the crisp, clean sheets of Harry's bed. There was a bit of Harry's cologne lingering everywhere - notes of cedar and bergamot - but in his bed the scent was musky and deep. What Eggsy wouldn't have given to wake up in sheets damp with Harry's sweat, an act so primal it was unthinkable of his composed mentor. In a manner of speaking. Eggsy had thought, plenty. 

He rolled over, breathing in a faceful of Harry as he cradled the pillow under his head. He could conjure Harry's voice in his mind. Harry saying, "no, Eggsy." Harry saying, "I'll sort out this mess when I get back."

Eggsy couldn't help it, and if he could, he didn't want to. He slid his hand to rest under his stomach, feeling tight muscle and tender bruises. In his mind, Harry saying, "yes, Eggsy." He thought of what Harry's face would look like if he could see Eggsy right now, squirming in his bed, on the verge of touching himself. He chuckled, snorting and thinking of Harry's scandalized face. What would Harry have said? "No, Eggsy" or "yes, Eggsy?" Oh, sod it all.

The Harry in his mind was standing resplendent in his suit in the middle of the room. He watched Eggsy work himself up, offered encouragement in Eggsy's best approximation of Harry's voice. 

"Yes, Eggsy."

Those words again and again in Harry's voice until Eggsy was mouthing at the pillow, "Harry- fuck - Harry- " Feeling Harry's voice in the back of his mind, moaning against Harry's pillow, writhing in Harry's sheets. Eggsy groaned - breathing in a lungful of Harry's scent on the inhale. Harry's jaw and his hair and his shoulders in an immaculate suit. Harry's hands pouring tea and reloading a gun and landing gently on Eggsy's shoulder with an affectionate squeeze. And if he could have had it, Harry's hands stripping off Eggsy's suit. Harry's lips leaving Eggsy a perfect mess, while the man himself was all flawless composure and lusty fire in the back of his eyes while Eggsy begged him for it.

His orgasm was more like a prayer. All ritual, no release. He spilled into his hand, shouting into the pillow, "oh, God, Harry, please."

 

~~~

Eggsy had wanted this for ages. Wanted so intensely it should have embarrassed him. Eggsy didn't actually have much shame. It was something Harry stirred up in him. It was a strange thing to like about a person. The way Harry made him feel - much more than just the occasional shame - frightened and excited him in equal measure and the only part of it he understood was that he'd never felt like this before. Precisely how long he'd wanted Harry - if he was being honest, and cliché, since the first time he'd set eyes on the man. Not when he was a kid - that didn't count. The steps of the station. There he was like Eggsy's own fucking guardian angel or something. But, maybe Eggsy hadn't originated that thought until the scene in the bar. When pieces began falling together.

The lines of Harry's body in his perfect trousers and immaculately pressed shirt and torso framed in shoulder holsters and Eggsy felt like he was going a bit mental.

It had been weeks of eyefucking and flirtatiously cheeky rapport between them - if Eggsy read it correctly - since Harry returned to work. Before that, weeks of rehabilitation for Harry, and nigh ceaseless work for Eggsy. There had been a fuck of a lot of work to be done. No time to think about Harry, but enough. 

Harry's voice, speaking of the schedule for the following morning. There was still a lot of fucking work to be done. 

The time since V-Day - he knew Harry was alive. And after the shock, the sheer blessing of it had driven the new agent to a level he couldn't have anticipated. He surprised himself in the field sometimes. On his own. It could have all gone to his head, but his arrogance was tempered by his desire to make Harry proud, in turn strengthened by the certainty of seeing his mentor's face again. Harry didn't let him visit for weeks after the shooting. Refused to be fussed over. Eggsy was offended by the idea Harry had of him as a coddler, but, honestly, Eggsy would've done.

The fabric of Harry's trousers was cool and crisp as Eggsy slid his hands across it, feeling warm contours of muscle beneath.

"Eggsy-" Harry gasped, apprehensive, as the younger man gracefully slid to his knees in front of him. Eggsy's determined - predatory even - expression left little room to doubt the younger man's intentions or convictions, Harry thought with a flutter in his heart and a moan catching in his throat. The sound he swallowed with composure. 

"Harry," Eggsy soothed, erasing any doubt with the thick kindness of his voice. Harry whispered his name and pressed his palm to Eggsy's cheek. He smiled because Harry's expression of surprise and relief left the older man slack-jawed, lips gently agape. Eggsy grinned as he kissed Harry's palm  and nuzzled his temple against Harry's firm crotch, eliciting something worryingly close to a whimper from the senior agent. Eggsy's hands slid around Harry's back, pulling his shirt from his trousers and when the hands came back to his thighs and Eggsy's breath against his trousers pulled a groan from his throat again he made sure it was of a lower register, and not so near a whine as before.

"I want you to say yes, Harry. Tell me you want it."

"Yes, Eggsy. I want you."

Eggsy thrilled at that. And he was salivating. His hands trembled on Harry's belt, out of excitement. He didn't fumble, but deftly unwrapped Harry like a gift. Teasingly, he mouthed the shaft of Harry's cock through the thick cotton of his pants. 

"Eggsy." Not a lusty sigh this time, a request.

"Yes, Harry?" Eggsy peeked up at him from where he'd buried his nose in the dark hair low on Harry's chest.

Harry grabbed the back of his neck and the back of his shirt and brought Eggsy's lips to his. Shit, Eggsy thought, shaken. Why hadn't he thought of that first?

When Harry pulled him out of the kiss, and stared into his fucking eyes and his lips formed a shape Eggsy's never seen on him before. There was a whole new depth to his face and he saw it, whatever the fuck it was. And Eggsy's breath caught, and he felt a little dizzy. And the look on Harry's fucking face when he pushed Eggsy back to his knees. 

"As you were."

Reveling, he continued - precisely where he was interrupted - until the cotton was damp; until Harry couldn't get any harder; until Harry's knuckles were white grasping the desk's edge. Eggsy's fingers pulled the cotton away from Harry's skin, sliding pants and trousers down his legs to pool around his ankles in a manner wholly unbecoming of a gentleman - and Eggsy smirking at that because he half expected Harry to fuss over it, but all Harry said was Eggsy's name, in a thick, boozy voice.

Harry's hands were steady as he patiently unbuttoned his shirt, but Eggsy was privy to every shuddering breath and racing beat of heart. Harry let his shirt fall open without removing it. He gracefully slipped the shoulder holster free, laying down his weapons.

Harry smelt clean. Citrusy soap, a bite of bergamot, a musk all his own. Eggsy kissed his thighs and took his shaft in a loose, teasing grip. Slowly, he replaced his hand with a flat tongue and he licked a stripe up the shaft. His eyes on Harry, watching him fall apart.

"Let me hear you, Harry, please," Eggsy breathed to the tip of Harry's cock before he licked his lips and took it into his mouth slowly, steadily.

Harry wanted Eggsy to distinctly feel the wonder he felt, the sheer blissful love he felt, with his cock deep in Eggsy's mouth. Harry wanted him to know. 

"Yes, Eggsy." For the life of him, could he remember any other words? "So fucking beautiful, Eggsy. So good. So perfect. You're so good for me, darling." Harry would never stop the litany of praise for this man, not when they were like this. Harry would give Eggsy everything he wanted, needed to. Judging from Eggsy's vigor and the way the younger man's hands roamed his body, squeezing and teasing, Harry felt his lover pleasantly provided for. And all that seemed required was his presence. His consent and his approval. Eggsy's eager mouth may be satisfied but Harry needed more.

"Eggsy, let me kiss you." Harry's voice was resolute again. Commanding. Eggsy bobbed on his cock again, with a groan. "Don't make me repeat myself," Harry spoke again, firmly.

A thick strand of saliva trailed slowly away from Harry's cock as Eggsy pulled off.

"Yes, Harry," he answered. His wet lips smirking.

Harry pulled Eggsy up to his lips again. Each man's panting breaths mirrored the other. Mouth still eager, Eggsy wanted more. Crowding against Harry, lying their bodies flush and tonguing his way into Harry's mouth. Sparring lustfully with his recruit, Harry showed a wellspring of patience. Eggsy found it vexed him; wanted to make Harry lose it. Harry pulled them apart. 

"How did I get so fucking lucky?" Harry Hart sighed, staring straight into Eggsy's face. Harry kinked his fingers through Eggsy's hair and his lips started to curl into that grin. The grin that made Eggsy know he loved this man. The distilled essence of his desire for Harry Hart, poured into one perfect look. A wave of cool reflection overtook Eggsy's lust in that quiet moment and he studied the older man's face. He would find it, whatever elusive thing it was that made Harry Hart forgo his control and practiced composure.

Eggsy studied him quietly. You look just like your father, Harry thought. Harry stopped himself from saying. He would never. Men had not been Lee Unwin's preference. The only thing between Harry Hart and Lee Unwin had been mutual respect. Harry had never even broached the subject with the man, in the short time he'd known him.  Thinking of Lee in this moment brought a hot flush of shame to Harry’s face. The son of his hopeless crush shining like a star, beautiful and just for him. Pangs of guilt shot through Harry but he couldn't find reason to give them harbor. Let it pass. 

Eggsy kissed him. Fell right into him. Delicious friction of Eggsy's trousers against his exposed cock made Harry roll his hips against Eggsy. He needed all of him. Then he knew. He wanted, of course he did, but -

"I love you, Harry," he said it shamelessly.

"Oh, Eggsy - " he paused, in his moment of falling. "My darling, I've thought of taking you over this desk a hundred times. But now - I want to spread you across my bed. Would you like that?"

Eggsy couldn't speak. Maybe his heart stopped for a moment. Harry thought of him. Eggsy entertained a notion - of some moment in the last six months when Harry might have been thinking about him, and he thinking of Harry. Harry possessed him. 

"Wanked to you so many times, Harry," he laughed, drunk on pure emotion. Harry's forehead touched Eggsy's temple and their hot breath mingled while Harry's hands breached bespoke trousers.

"You wear this suit beautifully, Eggsy." Harry mumbled at Eggy's throat, his hands drunkenly grasping at his lover's hips. He shoved the younger man's pants and trousers down his thighs and wisely took the opportunity to free them both from the brambles of presently useless fine trousers. Their state of dress leveling, Harry pressed his mouth lingeringly against Eggsy's cock but quickly worked the buttons of Eggsy's shirt free on his way back to Eggsy's lips.

"Fuck, Harry, fuck. Fuck me, Harry."

Harry inhaled Eggsy's breath.

"Yes, Eggsy," he responded, obedient to his lover's desire. He'd picked up on what this phrase did for his protégé. Permission, admission, admiration, praise, respect. Noble weaknesses. 

Resolutely, Harry marched them from his office to his bedroom. Locked deep in an immobile tangle of limbs, the two men soaked into each other, all hands and lips and tongues; not even ready for the bed yet. For the first time Harry felt a responsibility that he wanted to respond to with: no. Please. He thought, in a whisper near Eggsy's ear because he couldn't help it, "I want you to take me. I want you in me until I can't think. Eggsy, darling, I want you in me. I want all of you. Eggsy."

Harry's final plea of his name was a mewl. He didn't bother to disguise the need anymore. Eggsy stuttered. For a moment, he was overloaded. Harry. Harry. Fucking. Hart. Wanted to be fucked. Fuck. To be inside Harry Hart. The breath was knocked out of him. And Eggsy was drowning in brown eyes.

Then, like he surprised himself in the field, he did it.

"I'm gonna fuck you blind, Harry Hart," Eggsy intoned, his voice like silk and brandy and jazz. "But not until you make me come."

"Gary Lee Unwin, I love you," Harry sighs.

Eggsy could've wept if he wasn't so turned on. And he would've been turned on if not for the anger that came with hearing his given name. "Don't ever call me Gary again," he admonished quickly, breaking the mood with the subtlety of a whistling kettle.

"Why not?" Harry replied, nonplussed, "what if I like it? It rhymes with 'Harry.'"

And Eggsy saw his birth name - the name his father had given him - in a completely new way.

"Come," Harry said.

"Just like that?" Eggsy replied, cheekily. Eggsy thought it was a fair bet Harry could make him come, pretty well untouched, just talking to him. When Harry used his mouth for filth...Eggsy shivered. He wanted to tell Harry to talk to him. He was thinking about how he could broach this subject when Harry swept him up, pulling his feet from the ground.

Harry took him. Bodily. He gathered the young, solid body in his rigorously trained arms. He could have banged Eggsy Unwin into a wall. He'd be drenched in sweat by the end of the ordeal, but by God he could do it. Eggsy was lovely; so heartbreakingly beautiful.

They slithered in Harry's silk sheets, absorbing every sensation and far too abandoned to each other to chase a climax. But growls became meaner and Eggsy's muscles flexed and Harry covered Eggsy's body with his tongue. Finding the soft spots, and hard spots, ticklish spots and the deep recesses that made the younger man moan. And he listened to Eggsy moan his name, urging the older man to bring him relief.

"I want to watch you, Eggsy," Harry said at last, when Eggsy was indeed spread across his bed. "Flip over," Harry said, kneeling between his lover's legs. Harry guided Eggsy as he rested his weight on his elbows. "In the top drawer, to your left," he continued.

"What should I do, Harry?" Eggsy asked, all cheek, as he extracted a discrete glass bottle from the drawer. The bottle's cap had an expensive heft and the liquid smelled like sex and pheromones and flowers and chocolate and honey and-

"Eggsy. I want to watch you prepare yourself for me. For my cock."

Harry kissed at Eggsy's shoulder while he let the clear liquid warm in his palm and coat his fingers. Eggsy maneuvered an arm between them, Harry's lips following his hand across his body. Grinning, Eggsy slid his fingers around his hole. Slicking the perineum, fingering himself for Harry's eyes. Eggsy slipped a second finger inside himself so quickly it made Harry moan. He used the fingers in tandem, with a practiced grace that Harry noticed. He couldn't help but slip his tongue against Eggsy's fingers. 

"Harry-" Eggsy's voice was gorgeous.

His lover.

Eggsy flexed his fingers in his hole and Harry licked around and between them, teasing.

"One more, then I want your cock, Harry."

The wanton little thing. Harry dipped his tongue into Eggsy's stretched hole, even as Eggsy worked up to three fingers, and deeply. Oh, he could - 

Harry needed to see him. "Eggsy," he moaned.

"Harry, please." Eggsy's tone was urgent. "I want you, Harry, please."

Harry flipped the younger man onto his back. He palmed Eggsy's calves and arranged a pillow thoughtfully under his lover's back. 

Eggsy watched Harry slick his own cock, exhaled Harry's name and wrapped his arms around his lover's shoulders. Harry slipped into Eggsy's slick stretched hole. He was tight and warm and taking every inch of him greedily. Harry's teeth latched gently into the meat of Eggsy's shoulder and the younger man could do little but moan and buck into the snap of Harry's hips. And he did so, loudly, youthfully. He was fucking Harry back every bit as feverishly as Harry could manage. This boy was going to kill him. Eggsy's vocabulary shrunk to "yes" and "Harry" and "fuck me," and it was that filthy fucking mouth that was going to do Harry in.

But Harry had an objective, and he would accomplish it. Fisting Eggsy's smooth, pulsing cock, it didn't take long of a choreographed rhythm of hands and hips until Eggsy was twisting, moaning, squeezing his fingertips into silk sheets. Harry's hand became a blur on Eggsy's cock. Harry's hips stuttered, feeling Eggsy's tight muscles clamp around his cock, and the angle of his hand shifted, sending a wayward rope of opalescent come across Eggsy's mouth and neck. When Harry released inside Eggsy, he couldn't identify the sounds forcing their way out of him from his diaphragm. Just Eggsy's name and simpering moans and perhaps a few expletives. 

"Fucking hell, Harry." 

Eggsy's hands were in his hair and for a few stunned seconds they could both ignore the mess they had made. Harry licked along Eggsy's jaw, and kissed him, and sucked at the come on his neck. 

"You're fucking filthy," Eggsy mumbled, incoherent. All he knew was Harry's mouth was on him somewhere. And he could feel what he thought might be Harry's come wet and liquid, slick around his ass. Harry's cleaning him up got him half hard again, delirious as he was. Then Harry flipped him again, and Eggsy's thighs trembled while he supported himself on hands and knees. He felt Harry's tongue probing his hole, fingers spreading him open, and a gentle rhythm of lick and suck and push. Eggsy's face buried in Harry's pillow, spread open for his mentor just the way he'd thought of it on the night alone in Harry's bed with his imagination.


End file.
